


Escape Clause

by Beltenebra



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Crimes & Criminals, Heist, M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 20:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7136285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beltenebra/pseuds/Beltenebra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The perfect heist depends on perfect teamwork – what happens when the crew goes from breaking in to breaking down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Escape Clause

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for Kis-my-fic2 2012.

I knew it was a bad idea. All issues of legality aside, I knew it was a terrible, no good idea to let you talk me into this. But it was all: wouldn't it be _glamorous_ and high-class thieves are so charismatic and it really would make the best use of our talents, don't you think? One ill-timed weekend marathon of heist movies followed by the momentary insanity that was thing at the gallery and the giddy thrill of actually pulling something off. I really should have thought it through but then came the crew and the contacts and the jobs and now it's _work_ and it's really not all escaping to Caribbean villas or crashing gala parties and I am certainly not Thomas Crown or Danny Ocean. I am the idiot who lets his partner talk him into being the one who is shimming up the fourteenth story drainpipe while you rest in the relative comfort, albeit slightly odd smell, of the tech van because 'those bars look like a tighter squeeze than we thought, we probably shouldn't risk me getting stuck, ne, Watta'. 

_"Fuck"_

There was a soft click in his earpiece. "What was that, Watta? I didn't quite catch that." 

Miyata down in the van rarely missed anything pertaining to the job and as cathartic as it would be to chew Fujigaya out on tape for posterity this was really not the time or place. 

Yokoo gave himself a little mental shake and silently slid up the last few centimeters to the window. "Nothing, no problems so far. Making my approach now." Taipi hadn't been wrong, the bars were high-school-mathlete-virgin tight. He probably was the only member of the crew that could make it. Well, maybe Tamamori could but he wouldn't have survived a five meter climb let alone fifty. Unless he was sitting in front of a computer (usually several computers with more screens, keyboards, and small blinking boxes than Yokoo could ever imagine one person needing) Tama tended to have less than perfect control over his own limbs. 

Luckily their resident computer geek had wormed his way into the security system hours ago - disabling the alarm and, more importantly, the pesky twenty milliamperes or so of current that ought to be running through the bars. 

Beyond the metal cage, the window was opened to a simple screen, letting the lovely night air in and making his job as simple as a flick of his wrist to slide the window up. Well that and half dislocating his shoulder to get through. Next time Nika gave him grief about being too skinny he was going to hunt down some practice windows and shove Nika through them so the brat could gain some appreciation of his talents. Not that Nika would ever concede that getting through something without blowing it to tiny pieces was necessary. He was kind of brilliant with all things explosive but suffered from intense one-track-mind syndrome. 

His feet hit the floor silently and with a tiny, practiced jerk his shoulder snapped back into place. "I'm in." 

"Right," Miyata's low voice in his ear was soothing. "Mitsu says we have approximately an hour to get it and clear out before he cuts the assistant loose." 

"Here's hoping it's just like the last one and she tries to follow him home." The sadistic glee was palpable in Taipi's voice as it cut in around Miyata's. 

"Be nice, Taipi. You know that ended up being a pain in the ass for all of us," He allowed a small hint of his smile to creep into his tone, "though it was hilarious". 

From the photos, courtesy of one of Miyata's tiny genius machines attached to the assistant’s bag by Kitayama earlier that week, he knew exactly where to find the frame he was looking for. A few practiced movements had it off the wall and the canvas freed from its gilt prison in record time. He slid his own canvas out of the tube strapped to his thigh and switched them out only pausing for a breath to admire his handiwork. 

Then it was back through the window, might have to ice his shoulder later or at least make Taipi give him a massage – the slacker. "It's done. I'm out." 

"Ok, you're clear and we're going ahead. Senga's in position for the pick-up." Miyata confirmed the exit plan. Yokoo just hoped the kid had picked a slightly more sensible ride this time. While tooling around in a cherry red Aston DBS was awesome, it tended to grab more than a little attention – which they really didn't need when he was literally sitting on a few million dollars. Senga was still adjusting to the idea that his newest fastest car wasn't the most appropriate thing for every situation. They had probably let Taipi show him too many James Bond films. 

Yokoo paused for a moment on the ledge to take a deep breath before he made his descent. The payoff wasn't quite in the bag yet but he allowed himself a small grin. Sure he might have been able to support himself with his artistic talent in a more legal fashion but most of the time, stress ulcers and idiot teammates aside, this was more fun. 

~ ~ ~

Qualifiers were important. Work was _usually_ more fun. He was _usually_ pretty laid back. He didn't _usually_ want to strangle his closest friend. 

It had started a little while before their last big job; Taipi had started acting a little strange. Not known for his long, even temper, he had been even more irritable than usual. Typically, in the afterglow of a big score Taipi was relaxed, helpful, and downright charming. It was one of Yokoo's favorite things about a successful heist - the piles of money were all well and good but when Taipi was feeling difficult not even stacks of sequentially numbered bills could make him play nice. 

Here they were just two weeks out from the last score and he was in rare form. He had been picking fights in planning meetings over tiny details, disappearing without warning, torturing the group members even more than usual. Yokoo had caught him giving Senga hell over the beverage selection the younger man brought back from the combini. _Senga_ of all people. And it was just Calpis. Granted, neither of them were very fond of Calpis but it didn't merit an entire diatribe on the general incompetence of their kohai. 

Yokoo had pulled a bewildered and upset Senga away and shoved him in the direction of Nika, who was undeniably the best at Senga-distraction, and gave Taipi a terse 'we have to talk' head tilt. He rounded on his partner as soon as the conference room door snicked shut. 

"What the hell is your problem, lately?" 

Fujigaya cocked an insolent eyebrow. "I don't know what you're talking about." 

"Really, Taisuke, that's what you're going with?"

The rare use of his full given name seemed to snap Fujigaya out of his show of indifference. He got right up in Yokoo's face, practically vibrating with tension. "Well, excuse me if I don't feel like I need to be all sunshine and rainbows all the time, _Wataru_." 

Yokoo let his confusion soften his expression. "Taipi, what's going on? Really?" 

Fujigaya seemed like he was a breath away from giving in - telling Yokoo what he was thinking, letting him help so they could work things out together like they always did. Yokoo took a single step forward, trying to project encouragement. Instead Fujigaya shut down. 

"It's nothing. Drop it." 

It would take a better safe cracker than he was to get his friend to open up when Fujigaya dug in his heels. Yokoo didn't believe him and Fujigaya knew it but the best he could do was sigh and let him go. 

~ ~ ~ 

So he let it go. Fujigaya's moodiness got a little better, then a little worse and still Yokoo just let it go. He would catch Fujigaya giving him strange, speculative looks when he thought Yokoo wasn't looking. It unnerved him – not being able to tell where he was with his friend for the first time in their relationship. It left him feeling off-balance, like he was scaling a roof and the tiles were constantly shifting beneath him. He did his best to ignore it and he was pretty successful until it affected the work. 

It was a museum job, a fairly complex heist they had spent weeks setting up. Kitayama had been on the inside for a month, posing as a private art dealer, Tamamori and Miyata had been building back doors in the museum's systems, Nika and Senga were all set up as a distraction. Yokoo and Fujigaya were the ones going in. 

Yokoo would be covering their exit route, on hand to deal with any loose ends or unexpected developments while Fujigaya made the actual lift. They couldn't have made it any more Hollywood if they had tried. The target was mounted at the end of a long gallery, spotlit in a pool of golden light. There were _lasers_. 

Fujigaya had spent hours practicing his footwork, his acrobatics, moving with glacial slowness, perfecting his muscle control. The whole team was connected via comm link, Tamamori and Miyata would be running digital interference from the van and Yokoo was monitoring Fujigaya's progress on a small wrist-mounted screen. 

It started out well, all systems go. Fujigaya had secured the painting and was working his way back down the length of the room. He paused for a moment in a particularly difficult position as he waited for the beams to shift. Even on the tiny screen Yokoo could see him wobble slightly with the effort. 

He had no idea what possessed him. Maybe it was the weeks of snarky comments, the times when Fujigaya ignored him instead of responding with one of this usual smiles, perhaps Yokoo had finally lost his mind due to stress. He opened his mouth to encourage his partner, a friendly 'you can do it' or 'you're almost there'. 

What came out instead was a strained hiss, "Be careful, Taipi". 

Fujigaya's sharp huff was very clear over the comm. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Watta. Am I some kind of trainee now who needs to be reminded how to do his fucking job?" 

Yokoo kept his voice very even, he knew Fujigaya hated it when he was calm and reasonable during an argument. "No. I just wanted to point out that this is a little more complex than what we have been doing lately. Well, what _some_ of us have been doing anyway. Those of us who have been hiding in the van."

He could practically see the pout on their team member's face,"Hey, my job is pretty complex! I'm not hiding!"

Miyata's voice cut in smoothly, "Not you, Tama." Then more questioning, "Uh, guys, is everything ok?"

"Fuck you, Watta. It's just _peachy_ , Miyacchi." 

Yokoo was primed to deliver an entire analysis of exactly how not peachy things were at the moment when Fujigaya slipped. 

It was just the tiniest sideways slide of his foot but it was enough. He broke one of the beams and the set the system blaring. There was no time for recriminations, the whole team sprang into motion - launching on of their backup scenarios. Fujigaya sprinted for doors that magically clicked open at his touch, thanks to Tamamori. Yokoo triggered some of the traps they had put into place, preventing the guards from reaching them before he and Fujigaya could get up to the roof. 

They made it out. Barely. Their back-up escape route was circuitous and took them down through the bowels of the building. By the time they made it to the rendezvous point they were both exhausted, filthy, and silently furious. 

Back at their home base Yokoo had spent the entire fifteen minutes of his shower replaying the whole thing in his mind, trying to make some sense of how they got to this point. He had barely finished toweling his hair when a scowling Kitayama caught his elbow in a vise-like grip. 

"I'm not even dressed, Kitayama, can't this wait?" 

The older man narrowed his eyes and tightened his hold. "No. Apparently it can't. Whatever the hell is going on with you two is going to stop before you get us all arrested or someone gets hurt." 

Yokoo wanted to agree but he was tired of wondering how exactly he was supposed to fix it. "And what magical solution have you devised, Mitsu?" 

Kitayama grinned a sharp, alarming grin and frog-marched Yokoo, (towel and all), through the main room. The other members watched without comment, their faces unusually solemn. The shorter man wrenched open the door to the conference room quickly, like he expected something to escape, shoved Yokoo in and slammed the door in one swift motion. 

Yokoo was thrown into the solid warmth of Fujigaya who had been lurking right there. They gave each other a disgusted look and sprang apart. 

"You two are going to talk and you're not coming out until we are satisfied that things can get back to normal." Kitayama's tone was matter-of-fact. Both Yokoo and Fujigaya knew that there was no way out of the room save the door their teammates were camped outside of. 

Fujigaya threw himself into one of the chairs, chin in hand, pointedly directing his attention at the wall. 

Yokoo sighed and perched himself on the edge of the table. "You can't even look at me, Taipi? Are you that angry?"

"Would it have killed you to put some clothes on?" 

"I wasn't exactly given the option." 

Fujigaya was doing his impression of someone who was completely indifferent but he was also doing the thing where he twisted his fingers together. The thing he only did when he was nervous and upset. Yokoo sighed again, putting his irritation away for later. 

He crossed the space between them and got a hand under Fujigaya's chin, forcing him to look up. He softened his tone, almost pleading. "Look, Taipi. Swear at me, hit me, whatever you want but first please tell me what is bothering you. Do you really hate me that much?" 

His partner gave him something that was a cross between a withering glare and a miserable pout. "I don't hate you, you asshole." His words were forced out like he was gritting his teeth around them, trying to hold them back. "I like you." 

Yokoo was dumbfounded, his brain ground to a halt while it attempted to process the logic behind the words. It took a few long moments for him to realize that Taipi meant that with a capital L. 

He felt his jaw actually go a little slack with shock. "You have _got_ to be kidding me. This whole time? That's what this was about?" 

Fujigaya took advantage of his pause to knock Yokoo's hand away and launch himself out of the chair, stalking across the room and turning his back. 

"You're really serious." 

"Why the hell would I be joking about this," came the sullen reply. 

He didn't bother to keep the fond exasperation out of his voice when he responded. "You didn't have to be such a child about it." 

His partner whirled to face him with a glare, Yokoo closed the distance between them in three long strides. He made sure his grip on Fujigaya's shoulders was firm and took his time studying the other man's face. It was a very familiar face. They had known each other a long time, after all. Fujigaya was his closest friend, the only partner he could ever imagine having and yes, there was desire there. It was obvious that Fujigaya had a very pretty face to go with his sharp mind and innate charm, (and stubbornness and wicked sense of humor and occasionally infuriating selfishness and all the rest). 

It would be a lie to say Yokoo had never considered the possibility. But he had always dismissed it for fear of screwing up the perfect balance of their relationship. Exactly the same fear he saw reflected in Fujigaya's eyes, masked behind his stony expression. But what the hell, clearly ignoring it had thrown things out of whack anyway. 

He gave his friend a small smile which grew bigger when Fujigaya's face shifted from icy to adorably confused. "You should have manned up weeks ago, Taipi. We could have gotten to the good part much sooner." 

He didn't give his friend time to react, muffling whatever question Fujigaya might have had with his lips. However off-balance Fujigaya might have been he didn't waste any more time on it, he reacted immediately- throwing himself into the kiss with abandon. Yokoo might have been shocked by the enthusiasm of Fujigaya's response if he hadn't been too busy enjoying it to think about it. 

Fujigaya's mouth opened easily beneath his and his prickly partner all but melted against him. Yokoo let his hands drift - one twining around Fujigaya's waist, anchoring him in place, the other sliding up to his neck. The kiss had an amazing kind of give and take, neither one of them willing to let the other lead all the time – much like every other aspect of their relationship. 

Fujigaya was the one who backed them up toward the big conference table but let Yokoo push him down to sit on the edge. He allowed Yokoo to tilt his head back so Yokoo could kiss down the column of his neck but he spurred him on with a steady stream of suggestions in a low, breathy voice. 

Yokoo distantly registered the quiet sound of the lock disengaging and Nika's not-at-all-quiet whoop of triumph. "Ha! Totally called it. Pay up suckers!" Taipi probably flicked Nika off behind Yokoo's back but he couldn't be bothered to care about their teammates. This was partially their doing, let them watch. 

Fujigaya pulled away just far enough to give him a wicked grin and Yokoo's last coherent thought for a while was that this new development was sure to make their next post-job celebration _much_ more interesting.


End file.
